Missing Him
by LiveLaughLove728
Summary: Post-CoHF, Pre-Epilogue. "His kiss was gentle and in it, this shared physical language between them, Clary found such love and assurance that she felt the last of her grief melting away. It would be back, she knew, but for the moment, her world had room for nothing but Jace." Clary mourns the loss of her best friend and Jace is there to comfort her.


**Hey guys!**

 **It's been forever since I've posted any Mortal Instruments stuff and I've gotten a ton of requests for some Clace, so I whipped this up for you. In my head I think it played out slightly smoother, but I don't completely hate it, so hopefully you find it acceptable. Enjoy.**

* * *

The sun was setting behind the New York skyline, bathing the surrounding sky in pastels of pink and orange; a scene Clary had drawn out, in great detail, on the sketchbook page before her. She'd sought refuge on the roof of the Institute, as she'd done a handful of times by now, and watched the sun sink lower and lower behind the buildings of Manhattan. It was peaceful and relatively quiet up here, and looking down at the world below her, Clary felt oddly detached, both physically and emotionally, from it all-not all that bad a way to feel as of late; certainly better than the alternative.

It was a spectacular view, one she'd contemplated sketching for a while now-with the war over, she had time to take up art again. Today was the first time she'd actually done it. Setting her colored pencils aside and looking down at it now, Clary assessed the drawing. She'd kept the majority of the piece in black and white, coloring only the sky in its blankets of gentle color. She supposed she liked it. She'd done better, of course, but it wasn't bad.

Turning the page of her sketchbook, she set pencil to paper again, her mind drifting as her attention shifted away from her current task. Not that it mattered much. The pencil moved across the paper almost of its own accord, forming the familiar curves of cheekbones, the light shadows under eyes and along the jawline without her paying very much attention at all. The lines and shading were the result of almost subconscious actions, driven from emotion rather than any specific desire or motivation to create. She'd drawn this face too many times in her life to have to give it much thought anyway. The art, in this case, was a release, the only way she could really figure to cope with the pain and loss that she felt would drown her at times.

Clary stared down at the sketchbook page before her, at the familiar face that had been drawn there-the face of her best friend. Could she still call him that, her best friend? A good part of her thought no, as friendship wasn't exactly a one-sided thing and it was hard to be friends with someone when you had no memory whatsoever of their very existence. The rest of her refused to dwell on it for very long. It was too painful. She missed Simon so much.

Especially today, his birthday-a day that Clary normally would have been big a part of. She wondered what he had done for it. His mom had probably thrown him a small party; his friends and band mates had probably been there; there'd probably been video games, junk food, stupid jokes, and all the little, mundane things that had once made up the best parts of her and Simon's friendship. He'd probably had a great time. Without her.

Clary tried not to think like that. For one thing, it wasn't his fault that he didn't remember her anymore. Not really. Sure, he'd been stupid and noble to sacrifice himself for them like he had, but she couldn't exactly blame him for it now and, loath as she was to admit it, there hadn't really been a better option. For another, it only made her miserable.

It had been two months now since the end of the war and, for the most part, things were back to normal as far as the Clave and the Accords, sans the new Faerie laws, were concerned. Shadowhunters everywhere were rebuilding and getting back to their lives. Clary did her best to follow suit, but nothing about her life could ever really be normal without Simon. He had been the only "normal" thing left in her life by the time the Dark War had come.

Not that there wasn't anything good in her life now. She and Jace were great, now that the Heavenly Fire was no longer an issue. Her mother and Luke had recovered from their ordeal and were back to planning their wedding and working to find a balance between cooperating with the Clave and staying away from it as much as possible. Maia had taken up her role as head of the New York werewolf pack beautifully, as if she'd been born to run it, and thanks to her friendly alliance with Lily, head of the New York vampire clan, werewolf-vampire relations were better than they'd probably ever been. Isabelle struggled with the loss of Simon almost as much-maybe even _as_ much-as Clary, but, being Isabelle, she didn't let it keep her from being herself too much. Alec spent most of his time with Magnus and both seemed happier than ever. Life was good, really good, and, for now at least, everyone seemed to be getting along exceptionally well, all things considered.

But Clary had lost the best friend she'd ever had, and she was hard pressed to go even a few minutes without somehow being reminded of that fact again and again.

Staring down at the drawing of Simon's face-way too accurate a depiction considering how quickly and carelessly it had been sketched, Clary felt a lump forming in her throat and a familiar pressure building behind her eyes. Fighting back the tears-she couldn't cry over this anymore, she looked up to stare back out at the city before her. The sun had set almost completely now and she figured she had maybe twenty minutes before it would be completely dark. Below her, a street lamp flickered to life, but she was much too far above it for it's light to reach her. The wind was picking up, brisk in the already cold early-March air, and she shivered against it, crossing her arms and burrowing further into her coat, yet grateful for it at the same time as it helped clear her head, blowing against her exposed face as it was.

"I thought I'd find you up here," a familiar voice said from behind her, breaking her out of her depressing thoughts. Clary spared him a glance but said nothing as Jace moved to sit beside her at the roof's edge, dangling his legs carelessly over the side so they hung freely in the open air below them.

Neither said anything for a minute as they sat there, though his presence alone was a comfort to Clary. She wasn't sure why she hid up here to sulk and be alone when Jace was so readily and willingly available, but sometimes she felt like she just needed the time away to get a hold of her thoughts and mourn Simon's loss-he wasn't dead, but he may as well have been-on her own. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jace looking at the sketch still on her lap, but saw no reason to do anything about it. Once upon a time, such a thing would have elicited unprecedented amounts of sarcasm and cruel jokes from him, but he knew how much she was hurting, despite her best efforts to be strong through it, and, in either case, there was no denying that the Jace of today was a kinder one than he'd once been.

After a good few minutes, he spoke again, his voice gentle and slightly pained. "I wish you would talk to me." She felt his eyes on her but she kept hers intently focused on her crossed arms. She could feel her defenses falling, as they always did for Jace, leaving her vulnerable, and she really didn't want to start crying.

After a silence, she said, softly, "I don't know what I should say."

"You're hurting, Clary," Jace said, his tone was full of love and concern. "You've helped me get through so much, and I want to do the same for you. I just don't know what to say. Tell me what to do. How can I make this better?" He looked down at his hands, clasped now in his lap, momentarily before looking at her again.

Fighting tears all the more now, Clary swallowed hard before answering. "I don't know. I just…" She shrugged helplessly, lowering her hands to rest in her own lap. "I miss him."

"I know," he said softly. "I don't… I've tried to imagine what it would be like if it was Alec..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Alec is your _parabatai_ ," Clary protested despite herself, looking at him for the first time.

Jace's eyes looked molten in the fading light. "He's also my best friend. Anyone could see how close you and Simon were. I just-What I'm trying to say is this is incredibly hard for you, I know. You grew up together. I don't know what that's like. I was ten before I even _met_ Alec. I just… I hate seeing you like this. I hate it and I feel so completely unable to help you."

"I…" Clary looked away again, "I loved him," she said quietly, "Not like I love you; like a brother. I mean, until I met you, we did everything together, for as long as I can remember. And now-" Her voice cracked and she stopped, breathing deeply to once more keep from crying. Jace's hand moved to hold one of hers. He waited for her to continue. "I feel like I can't go five minutes now without something reminding me that he's gone. He's not dead, I know, but… I mean he might as well be. The end result is the same."

Jace didn't say anything right away. His thumb rubbed soothing motions against the back of her hand. "I wasn't close to Max. Not like you were with Simon. He was so much younger than me, but it was awful when he died. I'm kind of thankful that there was so much else going on then that I didn't have a lot of time to really dwell on it very much." He shook his head and met her eyes. "I can't even imagine what this is like for you. But you're so strong, Clary, it astounds me sometimes. You're going to get through this, and I'm going to be here to help you. Whatever you need from me, it's yours."

It was almost completely dark now. A single tear traced its way down Clary's face. "Hug me," she whispered. Jace didn't hesitate to wrap her tightly in his arms, pulling her half into his lap as he did so. Had she trusted Jace less, she might have been wary of how perilously close to the roof's edge this left her. She wasn't worried though and his warmth was almost as welcome as the comfort he provided in the cold night air. "I love you so much," she said, her face buried into the dark material of his jacket.

He held her even tighter. "I love you too, Clary. More than I can even tell you." He paused for a second and she felt him press a kiss to her hair. "It'll be okay."

She nodded half-heartedly into his shoulder. "I just miss him."

"I know. I actually miss him too, believe it or not." He paused for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say anything more, but ultimately deciding to. "At some point, the rat managed to grow on me. I'll have to work on that." Despite herself, Clary smiled against him.

"You're a jerk, you know that?"

"I know. It's a talent." Clary's breath escaped her in a laugh. Jace continued to hold her and they were both quiet for a minute before she said, "You know, you're really good at saying exactly the right thing right when I need it."

She felt more than saw the smile that graced his lips. "Well, that's good to know. I never actually know what I'm saying."

"Thank you," she said softly, lifting her face off his shoulder to meet his eyes.

"Of course." He looked at her in the near total darkness for a minute, saying nothing while his eyes communicated so much. "Can I kiss you?" he asked finally, "Please?"

Slowly, Clary felt a smile creep back onto her face. She nodded and tilted her face back slightly while Jace closed the distance between them. His kiss was gentle and in it, this shared physical language between them, Clary found such love and assurance that she felt the last of her grief melting away. It would be back, she knew, but for the moment, her world had room for nothing but Jace. He was a drug, capable of vanishing all the pain and bringing with him welcome relief.

 _God_ , she loved him.

And as she deepened the kiss and Jace pulled her further into his lap, their limbs tangling together to leave them as close as they could be given the bulk of their coats, Clary decided, for now at least, that she would be just fine.

* * *

 **One of my all-time favorite scenes from the series is the one in CoHF in that room in the Guard when Clary tells Jace what Sebastian did to her and he is just absolutely perfect about it, and I imagined he would be similarly perfect about the Simon situation. We didn't really see what it was like during those 5 months he was out of their lives, but I imagine it was awful for Clary.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading. I have some plans for more TMI fics that I hope to get written soon, so keep an eye out and, if you'd be so kind, leave a review and let me know your thoughts!**


End file.
